


The Empire's Weapon

by Vik_kn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Empire, Sadness, brainwashed wolffe, imperial wolffe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:00:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28034286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vik_kn/pseuds/Vik_kn
Summary: One day he appeared on the bridge. The perfect image of a imperial high admiral. But who was he? The man with no name. No past.
Kudos: 9





	The Empire's Weapon

It was cold and dark in the galaxy. Every light and hope have been turned into dust, left behind by imperial forces on their unforgiving cleanse through the galaxy. The rebellion being nothing but a spark, still too small to be a real threat.

This might be true, but their lord taught them otherwise. “Always expect the unexpected” were his words one day. After he purged a rebel base and found a person.

Until this day no one saw who it was since Vader took care of it. But one day **he** appeared. Appearance polished to perfection. A true imperial high admiral in every sense. Ruthless. Efficient.

And Vader’s direct subordinate. No one knew his name and even if they did, they would never dare to say it. He didn’t need to prove his power. Everyone could feel it. Radiating off him and felt with every glare. The deep raspy voice commanding the bridge in a calmness of a sea, never changing, **never afraid.**

Many theories about his origin made its rounds. Some saying he is an old ally of the emperor. Some saying he might even be from the days of the republic, a high commanding officer. Some saying he was groomed for this role his whole life.

No rumour ever made it far. Quickly shut down by high command. Never by himself. The High admiral doesn’t care about any waste of time. A good morning being answered with a cold stare occurring daily until… the fear and deep respect for the man started. Is it respect? No one is sure but the bottomless fear they have for him is heavy enough to silence every rebellious thought.

He was a high admiral. Their interrogator. The empires weapon.

No one knows who he truly is. No one will ever know again. He doesn’t know himself. Being the empty and dead shell of the man he once was, now only a weapon for the empires plans and the third member of Vader’s personal men, The Fist of Vader or also called: Vader’s Fist.

He once had a name. He once had brothers. He once had a family. Now he has nothing.

The first time they start to truly fear him was when he came back from interrogating that rebel. No one was able to crack that man. But the silver-brown eyed man only needed ten minutes. And then he had everything the empire needed.

The rebel was a dead shell after that. Mind and will broken. And the High Admiral? He shrugged his coat on and began marching back to the bridge as if he didn’t just doom the life of a whole planet.

Who knows if he cares. No one ever sees or hears the man talk besides when he is giving orders.

Marching down the corridor, demanding attention and power without having to do anything. The crowd parting as if it’s an ocean. Responding to his mere presence.

And no one dares to stand in his way. Who knows how he might react. No one wants to find out.

Until some day a rookie doesn’t release him coming. And he just elegantly comes to a halt. Never losing his power. Never giving up control. And all they hear is a calm “move” in his rich deep and raspy voice. Did he shout? No. but it felt like he did to everyone. Stumbling to the side the rookie stares at him with fearful eyes, starting a chant of excuses.

He doesn’t care. He never does. Never will. Just proceeds to walk towards the bridge with his coat bellowing behind him. Never losing composure.

He doesn’t seem human. His one eye never betraying any emotion.

“Sir we got a rebel squadron incoming!” the bridge was alarmed.

The whole cruiser was alarmed.

But he wasn’t. “Fire once they are near. I want them eliminated.”

“b-but sir our own fighters are there!”

A swift turn on his heel and suddenly the officer has the Admirals attention.

Resting his cold gaze on the officer he pulls his eyebrow up, not glaring, but calmy looking at the officer until he squirms.

Not moving his gaze away, he gives the order:” Open fire.”

Turning back to the front, he moves to leave the bridge. “I want them gone by the time I return.”

He didn’t need to say the `or else`. They all learned it a long time ago. Failure was not accepted.

As the door closes behind him, a black figure emerges in front of him.

“Lord Vader” bowing lightly, he directly looks the Dark Lord into the eyes.

“You are dismissed. I will lead this. Return to your office at once.”

Bowing again he leaves after giving him a “Yes my Lord” as an answer.

Oh how proud the Lord is of his High Admiral.

Or should he say former CC-3636. Clone Commander Wolffe.

He never got a new name. Simply lost his old one at the same time his old self stopped existing.

Commander Wolffe is no more.

All that is there is now High Admiral of the Empire. Out for revenge for his lost brothers. Out for blood. He doesn’t know who he was. All he knows is that the empire is peace. The jedi are their doom.

And the rebellion? Oh how he had to let out a chuckle while leaning back in his chair. Those are pathetic fools. Not able to comprehend the great Empire.

Oh he was no fool. He was following his call. His duty. Orders are good.

Order is **necessary**

And he will bring it back.

And as he looks outside through the window, his old life looks back at him.

But he doesn’t recognise it. His scar and cybernetic eye being his because of that jedi. Paying the price of an eye to protect his brothers. It’s only fair he now **hunts them**.


End file.
